


My Dear Son Ephraim

by KuriKoer



Category: Mob City
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish mother, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriKoer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Certain canon and non-canon events examined in a conversation between Sid and his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Dear Son Ephraim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theicescholar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theicescholar/gifts), [Ceruleancat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceruleancat/gifts).



"I ought to box your ears."

Sid Rothman, mob hit man, known and feared on both the East and West Coast, sipped his tea patiently and didn't reply.

"A good Jewish boy, dressed up like a _priest_?!" The woman, over seventy years old, tiny and with hair like a frizzy white cloud around her head, leaned across the small table and smacked him feebly on the arm. "Sitting in _their_ house of idol worship?"

She hit him again. Sid grasped her hand and gently moved it back. "Ma, I'm 47."

"Right under an image of _that_ man?" She made a spitting noise, although she didn't spit.

Sid never let the smile show on his face. "Ma, I had to shoot the guy, did you want me to do it in the synagogue?"

"Hmph." The sound, combined with her scowl, spoke volumes. "You coulda done it in an alley like any other hoodlum."

"Ma..."

"And little Benny Siegel's mom says there was shrimp cocktail at his last party." She gave her son a shrewd eye. "Is that true?"

"I had tea."

"I'm still not happy."

"I know, Ma."

They had more tea and a couple of rugelach and civilized conversation before she returned to her kvetching.

"You could've joined Rabbi Isaac's klezmer, you know. You were so good on the violin."

Sid nodded in pretend-agreement, hiding another smile. He was fourteen when he last saw Isaac, who hated the little troublemaker Sid had been, and was in turn hated by Sid and almost every other student along with him.

His mother was still musing out loud. "My fault for letting you spend time with those no-good shkotzim, but Benny looked like such a nice boy at first, and Meyer was such a clever little Talmid Chacham. How was I to know?"

"They were good friends, Ma." Sid put down his cup of tea. "They still are."

His mother could not be placated. "They get you in trouble."

This time his agreement was whole-hearted. Yes, they did get him in trouble.

"Benny's in the papers every day, you think I don't see?" She huffed. "And Meyer's being investigated again. His cousin told me."

Sid sighed. "Well, I'm keeping my nose clean."

"Hmph." She gave him another long searching look. "You ought to eat more. You're as thin as your father was, rest his soul."

Sid smiled. "Dad ate like a king, you made sure of it. He was thin because he was thin."

She huffed again, clearly not appeased. "Are you eating well? Who's cooking for you?"

Sid glanced sideways, falling silent.

His mother nodded sagely. "The Mandel boy, still?"

Sid's fingers tightened around the cup of tea he was holding.

His mother's voice softened. "Tell him to give you double helpings. You're skin and bones." When he looked up, she met his eyes. "He's a good boy," she continued, "takes good care of you. You tell him I said hello."

Sid wrapped his hands around his cup, but that wasn't what made warmth spread in his chest.

"Just tell him you need more fattening up," his mother said. Then she leaned over the table and hit him in the arm again. "But no ham, do you hear me."


End file.
